Not Ready (Assurance Security Duet #1)

by Jillian West

I have a baby counting on me to keep her safe. I don’t have time to crumble.

if my heart feels guilty, then chances are, I did something wrong, no matter what anyone else has to say about it.

I’ve been riled since I saw that motherfucker in her bedroom early this morning. If I could have crawled through the computer screen, I would have strangled him to death with my bare hands.

This is the problem with having friends. It’s exceptionally difficult to convince yourself to kill them when the need arises.

Did I specifically put her in the guest room that links to mine via a shared bathroom? Yes, I did. No, I do not feel even an ounce of guilt. If I thought it would pass as appropriate, I would’ve put her in my goddamn bed, right where she belongs.

I’ve known for two years that Vale is meant to be mine. In no universe did I see her coming with a bonus human being. But after I got over the urge to track down the guy who ghosted her, I realized pretty quickly that I really don’t care that the baby isn’t biologically mine. I figure, ninety-nine percent of being a parent is showing up and putting in the work, anyway. If anything, I’m grateful she doesn’t have to birth one of my gigantic babies on the first try. Seriously, I was nearly twenty-three inches and eleven pounds at birth.

I would fist pump…if that wouldn’t be wildly inappropriate.

I’m legitimately concerned that I’d track her down and bond her before she could escape again. Then I’d have to spend the rest of our lives apologizing for my crazy ass while trying to win over her trust. I’d really rather not have to go that route, but my impulses are full-blown caveman on the crazy meter.

“Mercy wants access to his trust fund. Which makes him sound money hungry, but it’s for a good cause. It would help bankroll our initiative to take out the trash.” My mind races. That sounds a lot like a euphemism for murdering people. Maybe I’ve watched one too many true crime mysteries over the last year.

Is it wildly inappropriate to be attracted to my very pregnant wife-to-be?

I smile right back and grab her cold little hands. Good Lord, apparently I forgot to invest in gloves for the frozen little thing. I’ll handle that online once we get home.

I need to keep her so fucking happy that she’d never think of leaving me, but I’m also really out of practice when it comes to being romantic. Huh, maybe this is the first time I’ve ever really tried. Damn, that doesn’t bode well for my success rate.

What the fuck is Bishop thinking? He obviously wasn’t. The perfume addled his brain, too, apparently. He should be blocking her from any possible threats. Not that I’m a threat, clearly. Nope, not me. I’m just one step past crazy, sneaking into their bedroom in the middle of the night.

I text Hargrove, asking if there is some safe area where we should park. His response of lol isn’t helpful,

I think that’s the hard part about being a first-time mom. You can be absolutely terrified while still being excited on a level that can’t be matched. All while wondering if you’re going to screw everything up and praying that you won’t.

I don’t feel the least bit guilty when I elbow him out of the way to follow her into the bathroom. He already started the tub and laid out towels, which was very thoughtful because I intend to take full advantage of the setup. “Dick,” he mutters as I close the door in his face.

I’m not concerned a bit about her taking me for all I’m worth. I have no intention of ever allowing her to escape. Which makes me sound slightly creepy, so I keep that tidbit to myself for now.